


Home (Where I Rest With You)

by sonicsora



Category: Psychonauts (Video Games)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Growing Old Together, Healing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Nostalgia, Polyamory, Recovery, psychonauts secret santa 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 04:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17135246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicsora/pseuds/sonicsora
Summary: Gloria contemplates just what home means now as she watches her partners enjoy the usual rabble of holiday activities. Board games, warm drinks, soft music, Boyd somehow winning most of the games is a familiar but comforting sight. Gloria wouldn't trade it for anything else.





	Home (Where I Rest With You)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Psychonauts Secret Santa of 2018! Hopefully Fishybonesjones enjoys it!

Thinking about _home_ still is a strange sort of thing. Gloria still has a hard time wrapping her head around the idea itself. 

Home meant too many things. Good and bad equally. Her childhood home with the carefully tended gardens on the windowsills. The scent of upturned soil, the feeling of grass between her toes. The easiness of singing with her mother loud and bright in the mornings as they made breakfast together. 

Hagatha Home with its cold desolate halls overlooking a bleak unkempt plot of land. The quiet shuddering breaths as girls cried into their arms as silently as possible to avoid awakening the head mistress. The dull throbbing ache that built up after hours of practice under the head mistresses watchful eye. 

The two extremes painted so much of her life. 

She settles her chin in her palm tiredly, a fond smile curling across her lips as she looks out over at the living room from the open air kitchen. _Her_ boys are in a disarray as they always are. From one holiday activity to the next until they’ve found themselves back on board games again. Fred looms over a game board, his gaze intent as Boyd makes his move. Boyd is all smiles while Fred is contemplative. Their drinks have been long forgotten in the fray of whichever game they’ve dug into. 

Edgar looks mildly confused at best, paint having long since dried on his nose. He only rises from his spot next to Boyd to make his way over to the kitchen. Gloria chuckles lowly to herself at Edgar’s confusion as she picks up her mug of cocoa to take a sip from it. 

When he catches her eye, his expression warms into a smile. He makes a point to walk around the kitchen island and press a kiss against her forehead. 

“Having a hard time following the action, dear?” She has to tease just a little as she sets the mug back down on the countertop. She traces her finger along the rim of the mug idly as she takes in Edgar’s features. Paint she hadn’t noticed earlier has also dried in small patches his greying beard. His yearly holiday portrait proves to always leave him speckled with paint. 

“Ah- Just slightly.” He admits with a shrug. “Fred gets competitive and Boyd always goes for the strangest of strategies.” No one could figure out what Boyd did when it came to any board game, yet, he always came out on top somehow. None of them could fault his skills in out thinking them in games. 

“It’s the beauty of things, Edgar.” She muses with a soft laugh, she motions for him to sit down next to her. “Now, I get to keep the roguish artist all to myself.” 

Edgar gives his own laugh, having no hesitation to join her. He settles on the open stool next to his partner. With a teasing melodrama, he places a hand against his chest. “The queen of the stage wants the humble artist at her table?” 

“I can make an exception or… three.” She leans over to kiss him. He returns it readily, the two laughing lightly between kisses. 

“I think I’ve earned that much now.” She exhales lowly back, resting her forehead against his own. 

Home meant too many things. 

But, maybe finally. Home meant safety and comfort. Maybe she had finally found a middle ground to call her own.


End file.
